


The Best Birthday Gift

by bulletincookie



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Birthday Fluff, Birthday Party, Drunk Witchers (The Witcher), Drunken Confessions, Fluff, Modern AU, Multi, Past Jaskier | Dandelion/Valdo Marx, Valdo Marx Being an Asshole, present and then past in the course of the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:35:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26293489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bulletincookie/pseuds/bulletincookie
Summary: Jaskier's boyfriend, Valdo, forgot his birthday yet again. Not that it's any surprise, in fact it's become a sort of tradition. And, as tradition, Geralt, Lambert, and Eskel show up to Jaskier's place with cupcakes and enough alcohol to put a party store to shame. It gives Jaskier the confidence he needs to realize that he deserves better, and there are three takers.
Relationships: Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert, Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert
Comments: 32
Kudos: 472
Collections: Bounce A Coin Bingo, Jaskier or Geralt/others (with or w/out eachother)





	The Best Birthday Gift

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! Welcome to this fic which did not want to stay the same from start to finish. It was originally going to be jaskel, with geralt being the one to forget jaskier's birthday, but it felt too ooc for geralt to be such an ass. so i changed it to valdo marx, since hes a good scapegoat, and figured why should jaskier have only one boyfriend when he can have three? so this happened. 
> 
> Fill for the Bounce a Coin Bingo: Forgotten Birthday

> **[Valdo, 5:34 pm]**  
>  Working late again.

Jaskier stared down at his phone with a sour expression. Did he even remember what day it was? He scoffed to himself at that. No, of course he didn’t. He didn’t remember Jaskier’s birthday _every year_. Hadn’t for the past…Jaskier had lost count. The only time they celebrated his birthday was when Jaskier finally reminded Valdo of it, a week later, and Valdo would just wordlessly take him out to dinner for a late birthday gift. 

He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes and shuddered in a deep breath. He was 23 now, birthdays shouldn’t mean that much to him, and he supposed they didn’t, but it was that Valdo _forgot_ every year that stung. Not even a happy birthday text. He shouldn’t be surprised at this point, really. 

He choked on a sob and grabbed a pillow from the couch tight, not sure if he wanted to cry into it or throw it with all of his might. It fell from his hands and he flopped onto his side on the couch as the sniffles and sobs kept coming. He was being pathetic about this he knew, but— he silently cursed himself for trying to cling onto this relationship so tightly. In reality, it hadn’t been working out for at least the past two years, if not longer. He and Valdo had been friends ever since the start of uni, and had moved in together after graduation to save on rent. While living together they fell into an on again off again friends with benefits situation, but it wasn’t until a few years ago that Jaskier had admitted to Valdo that he had what he had thought was an embarrassingly large crush on him, and they started to date. 

Jaskier realized not too long after they started to date that there wasn’t actually any romantic feelings there at all, but it was the only sort of attention that he was getting at the time, and by the time he actually managed to start to make new friends, sunk cost fallacy made him stick with it, thinking maybe it would get better, maybe as they got to know each other on a deeper and more profound level, but nothing. If anything, the spark died _more_ the more he got to know Valdo. 

His phone ringing interrupted him from his thoughts, and Jaskier sniffled and looked down at it. A small smile spread on his face and he answered. “Hey Eskel,” he mumbled, his voice still thick from crying. 

“Hey, happy birthday,” Eskel said, his voice gentle on the other end. 

“Thanks,” Jaskier sniffled again. “At least you remembered.”

“God, just fucking dump that piece of shit already!” Lambert’s voice crackled through. Eskel shushed him. 

Jaskier laughed. “Hi Lambert.”

“Sorry, it was _going_ to be a surprise,” Eskel said through audibly gritted teeth. “Lambert and Geralt are with me.” There was a small unintelligible mumble that sounded vaguely like a greeting from Geralt. 

Jaskier couldn’t hold back the smile that was spreading on his face. “Thanks. Are you guys on your way over already?”

“You bet your sweet ass!” Lambert shouted. A slap sounded from the phone, along with a few curses from Lambert. 

“Sorry,” Eskel added. “Yeah, we’re on our way now. We’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“I’ll, uh— try to clean up and get things ready,” Jaskier said.

There was a resounding shout of _“NO”_ from the phone, so loud that Jaskier had to hold his phone away from his ear. Scuffling noises came from the phone and hisses of “wait—” “give me the—” “let _go_ I’m driving—” “hey I want to—” before the call suddenly cut off. 

Jaskier blinked at his phone a couple times, but didn’t have much time to contemplate what happened before Eskel called him again. “Hello?” 

“It’s me,” Geralt gruffed from the phone. 

“Hi Geralt.”

“Hi. Don’t lift a finger.” 

Jaskier looked around at the house. It wasn’t that great, it needed touching up for guests. “I don’t think you know what you’re asking for.”

“Can’t be worse than our place.”

Lambert piped up. “Our place is a _shitshow_!” 

That made Jaskier laugh a little more. “Okay. Is there anything I can get ready?”

“No,” Geralt insisted, just as Eskel spoke up again.

“Blankets.”

“What?” Jaskier asked.   
  
“Blankets,” Eskel repeated, a bit louder. “We’ll uh, need them. Bring them down to the living room.”

That made Jaskier’s chest warm. “You’re staying the night?”

“We’re going to get trashed!” Lambert shouted into the phone. Jaskier held the phone away from his ear again with a wince. 

“I’ll have the blankets ready,” Jaskier promised. “I’ll see you guys in a few minutes.” 

He hung up after saying several goodbyes, and a few more threats from the others to not do anything more than getting the blankets. Not like he had the time for anything else now anyways. He set the pillow aside and stood up with a stretch. He already was feeling better. Eskel always was the one to visit and cheer him up when he needed it, which lately had been every couple of days, but Geralt and Lambert were also fun to have around. To have all three of them was the best birthday gift he could have asked for. 

He was just carrying the last bundle of blankets they’d need into the living room when the front door banged open.

“Surprise!” Lambert shouted, strutting in with his arms spread as if he were going down a catwalk. He cleared the distance between himself and Jaskier in the blink of an eye, and had an arm slung around Jaskier’s neck. “How’s it going old man?” 

Jaskier laughed and shoved his arm away. “Oh please, I’m only a few months older than you.”

“Yeah, you’re _old_.”

“Oh you ass.” Jaskier grinned and pulled Lambert in for a tight hug, just as Eskel and Geralt were walking in with a few boxes, bags, and helium balloons trailing behind them. 

“Hey, happy birthday,” Geralt said as he set his bags and balloon weights down on the coffee table. He wrapped his arms around Jaskier from behind as Jaskier still was held tight by Lambert, though Jaskier quickly let go of Lambert so he could twist around and hug Geralt instead. 

“Wait your turn,” Lambert said, though there wasn’t any bite to his words and he kept his hold on Jaskier. 

“No,” Geralt fired back. 

“At least wait for me,” Eskel said as he set his own stuff down on the couch so he could wrap his arms around the three of them. Jaskier turned his head to smile at him, trying not to think of how close his face was. 

“You three are the best,” Jaskier mumbled, starting to tear up again but for a different reason. He buried his face in Geralt’s chest and sniffled. 

“No crying on your birthday,” Eskel said. “I won’t allow it.”

“It’s happy tears,” Jaskier mumbled. 

Lambert rested his head against Jaskier's with a huff. “Don’t get sentimental on us, you old fuck.” 

“Mm.” Jaskier couldn’t manage any words, he only rubbed his face against Geralt’s shirt to try to wipe away some of the tears.

“Gross,” Geralt grumbled. “Sit.” 

The other two instantly let go of Jaskier to set about clearing a space for them all to sit on the couch. Eskel moved his boxes onto the coffee table, and Lambert dumped the blankets onto the floor. Geralt pulled Jaskier over to the couch and sat down with him, though he froze when Jaskier instead scooted to slip onto his lap. 

“Is this— Is this okay?” Jaskier asked with a small hiccup. “I don’t—”

Geralt wordlessly guided Jaskier to rest his head on his shoulder before winding his arms around him to keep him in his lap. Jaskier got comfortable as Eskel and Lambert sat on either side of him. He felt a bit pathetic, needing to be cradled like this, but it was comforting to have a pair of strong arms keeping him held tight against a broad chest, with two equally strong and kind men on either side of him. 

Jaskier didn’t know how long they stayed like that. But when he finally pulled away, the shoulder of Geralt’s shirt was soaked and Eskel had a box of tissues at the ready. Jaskier croaked out a small thank you and took it to wipe off his face, embarrassingly soaked with tears, snot, and spit. None of them commented on it though, even Lambert kept quiet and instead settled for keeping a hand rubbing circles into Jaskier’s knee. 

“Shit, sorry, I— I can wash your shirt here,” Jaskier choked out. He cleared his throat to try to sound less like he sobbed his eyes out for far too long. “So it doesn’t stain. I have laundry to do anyways. I can toss it in with that.” He got up so that Geralt could take his shirt off, and Geralt looked at him for a moment before shrugging and standing to head for the bedroom. Jaskier made to follow him, but two strong arms wrapped around his waist and tugged him back down to the now empty space on the couch. 

“Wait the laundry is—,” he protested weakly, but there were two bodies cuddling him aggressively and he couldn’t get up even if he wanted. 

“I’ll find it,” Geralt said over his shoulder. 

With a heavy sigh, Jaskier slumped back into the couch and accepted his fate. It earned him a pleased hum from Eskel, who pulled him into his lap instead. 

“Hey that’s not fair,” Lambert grumbled. He pulled away to instead rummage through the bags on the coffee table until he pulled out a bottle of rum and vodka. “I’m drinking all of the booze, since you two are busy being gross.”

“You’ll get your turn in a minute,” Jaskier teased, not missing the way Lambert’s eyes flicked over to him with a hopeful spark in them before he set on opening the bottles. He set them down and pulled out even more bottles, which gave Jaskier pause. 

“How much alcohol did you guys bring?” he asked. 

“Enough for all of us to get trashed,” Lambert replied, as if it was obvious. “You know how we have livers of iron.” He got up to head for the kitchen, rummaging around in the cabinets for cups. 

“I don’t,” Jaskier whined. “You guys are going to make me sick.”

“You took tomorrow off right?” Eskel asked, and Jaskier realized with a jolt that he could feel Eskel’s breath ghosting over his neck. 

“Of course,” he mumbled, shifting a bit to try to hide the shudder that went down his spine. “If you guys weren’t going to get me drunk, I was going to do it myself.”

Lambert scoffed as he returned with glasses that were far too tall for normal alcohol consumption. He set them down like it was nothing and set to pouring a bit of every type of alcohol set on the coffee table into one of them. 

“What the fuck are you doing,” Eskel groaned. 

“ _Science_.”

“More like suicide,” Jaskier snorted. He expected the drink to be for Lambert, only to have the cup pushed into his hands. 

“Here ya go,” Lambert said with a pleased grin. “I call it Lambert’s Therapy. Guaranteed to make you forget about your shitty boyfriend or your money back.”

“I think I’ll call it a no,” Jaskier said with a wince. 

“Suit yourself.” Lambert took the drink back and knocked back a sip, immediately coughing and gagging after he swallowed it. “Oh fuck— that’s _disgusting_.” He erupted into another round of coughs and gags. 

“Told you,” Eskel said, then let go of his hold on Jaskier with one hand so he could hold his hand out for the cup. “Let me try.” 

A moment and drink later, both Eskel and Lambert were coughing and cursing, and Jaskier was laughing harder than he had in days. Probably since the last time any of them had visited, really. He collapsed against Eskel in a fit of giggles. 

“That was the _worst_ idea,” Eskel said as he cleared his throat. “Why’d you put fireball in there with vodka and wine?”

“Therapy!” Lambert reasoned. “Can’t remember your shitty boyfriend if you’re too busy disgusted by the drink.”

“I can’t believe you two,” Jaskier said in between laughter. 

“I leave you all for a few minutes,” Geralt said with a heavy sigh as he sat back down on the couch, now shirtless. 

“Hey— Geralt,” Lambert said, poorly suppressing his own laughs as he added in a weak voice, “made you a drink.” He held the potion of nasty out to Geralt, who looked as if it had personally offended him. 

“What is it?”

“Yes,” Lambert said with a wide grin. 

“He put everything we brought in a cup,” Eskel said with another cough. “I can still taste it.” 

Geralt took the cup and wrinkled his nose at it. “I hate you two.” He took the cup and took a small sip, immediately gagging after. “Ugh, what the fuck?!”

“Why’d you drink it?” Jaskier asked, another fit of laughter overtaking him. 

“It’d be a waste of alcohol if I didn’t,” Geralt said, and held the cup out to Jaskier. “Your turn.”

“Oh no, I am _not_ drinking that crime against humanity,” Jaskier said as he tried to scramble away from the cup. He could smell the alcohol from where he was sitting. 

“You’re in it with us now, there’s just one drink left,” Geralt insisted. There was _not_ just one drink left, but it was enough to chug the rest in a beat. So that was what Jaskier did. 

And that was how they all found themselves scrambling to empty out a paper bag so that Jaskier could immediately throw the drink back up. 

“Oh fuck, it’s even worse back up,” Jaskier coughed. 

Eskel laughed and rubbed his back in small circles. “Lambert, toss that shit out before it leaks.” 

“Ew, why do I have to get rid of it?” Lambert asked. 

“It was your idea to put that together.”

“Geralt made him drink the rest!” 

“I already got up once,” Geralt reasoned, and Lambert groaned and took the bag gingerly with a wrinkled nose. He dropped it into a couple of plastic bags and ran it out of the house to toss it in the neighbor’s bin. He returned and slammed the door behind himself. 

“Cupcake time,” he determined, and Jaskier perked up at that from where he was still curled up on Eskel’s lap. 

“Cupcakes?” he echoed.

“Thought we’d forget the most important tradition of all?” Lambert asked as he plopped back down on the couch in the middle. He dragged one of the boxes onto his lap and pulled out a pocket knife to make quick work of the tape that was keeping it shut. He lifted the lid up to reveal a dozen cupcakes, all red velvet and topped with a neat swirl of frosting. 

“Are they the filled kind?” Jaskier asked, his eyes sparkling. 

“Couldn’t break tradition and not get the filled ones,” Lambert snorted. Geralt and Eskel murmured their agreement. Jaskier reached out for one of the cupcakes, but Lambert smacked his hand away and grabbed a cupcake instead. He unwrapped it and held it to Jaskier’s lips with a smirk. 

Jaskier leaned in and took a bite of the cupcake without any hesitation, expecting it to get smeared over his face in a typical Lambert move, but instead he was able to take his bite and pull away without any interruption. He hummed as he sank back against Eskel’s chest. “Delicious.” 

“Only the best for the birthday flower,” Eskel said with a squeeze to his hip. Jaskier smiled and wiggled a bit to snuggle up to him. 

“This all means a lot. Thank you,” he said. 

“Less feelings, more drinking,” Geralt grunted as he set about mixing drinks for all of them. At least Geralt had a much better idea of what drinks worked well together. 

They all settled into an easy habit of joking and bantering as the drinks kept flowing, cut with cupcakes and eventually takeout that Geralt ordered after they realized they wouldn’t survive the night on several types of booze and cupcakes. 

The television was playing some sports game, but Jaskier didn’t even pay it any mind. The drinks were starting to get to his head, despite his common sense telling him that he really shouldn’t be drinking after he just chugged and subsequently threw up the worst drink known to man. The awful taste was forgotten with enough cupcakes, takeout, and good mixed drinks. He now was curled up on Lambert’s lap, his head on his shoulder, a lull in the conversation making him feel sentimental. 

“I’m glad you all remembered my birthday,” Jaskier mumbled, stroking his fingers over Lambert’s chest like he was petting a cat. 

“As if we’d forget,” Lambert said above his head, though there wasn’t any fire to it. Jaskier wondered if the drinks were starting to get to him too. “You need to ditch the guy, no amount of good sex can be worth this shit.”

“It’s not even that great,” Jaskier admitted. 

“Then why?” Geralt growled. 

“I— don’t know. I thought he was the only chance I had at a relationship. A steady relationship.” 

They were silent for a moment, before Lambert snickered. “Well if you need good sex I’m sure Eskel would—” He was cut off by Eskel kicking him.

“We aren’t talking about that right now,” Eskel snapped as he took a sip of his drink. 

Jaskier sat up, trying to focus his thoughts enough to try to figure out what they were saying. “Not— not talking about what?”

“About Eskel’s massive fucking boner for you.” Lambert snickered as he was kicked again.

“As if you and Geralt don’t,” Eskel fired back.

He received a sharp glare from where Geralt was seated on the other side of Lambert and Jaskier. “Don’t drag me into this.” 

“What— I’m still confused. What is ‘this’?” Jaskier asked. “Don’t tell me I have to pick between you three. Are you all trying to compete for my affection like a medieval princess?”

“Nah,” Lambert said. “We all know I’d win if we were.”

“I— don’t know if that’s true or not,” Jaskier whined. He slumped against Lambert with a pout. “Don’t make me choose.” 

“Why..Why d’ya have t’ choose?” Geralt slurred. He leaned over and rested his head on Jaskier’s shoulder, leaning against Lambert. Eskel hummed in agreement from where he was seated, and even scooted a bit closer to the three. 

“Huh?” Jaskier sat up and looked between the three of them. “I’m— fuck I still haven’t even broken up with Valdo yet, I don’t know if I _can_ ,” he admitted. He ran his hands through his hair and gripped at it a bit. A comforting hand was placed on his shoulder. He didn’t lift his head up enough to see whose it was. 

“Do you want to?” Eskel asked, his voice strangely calm and clear. A faint part of Jaskier noted how Eskel was always best at handling his alcohol. 

“I don’t _know_.” Jaskier cursed and let his hands fall into his lap. “Fuck, I’ve spent so many years trying to make this work. Just walking away from it doesn’t feel right.” 

“It hasn’t worked for a while,” Eskel murmured. 

Lambert cut in with a snort. “Yeah, since before it started.” It earned him a slap upside the head from Eskel. 

“Not the time,” Geralt chided. 

Jaskier stayed silent, and instead just slipped off of Lambert’s lap so he could curl up on his own on the couch between him and Eskel. Eskel immediately wrapped his arms around him to hold him. 

“Don’t make a decision now. Just— think about it,” he murmured in Jaskier’s ear. Jaskier closed his eyes and leaned against him more heavily as the other two friends shuffled closer as well. Lambert slipped his arm between Jaskier’s back and the couch, and Geralt reached over to rest his hand on Jaskier’s leg. 

“What do I even think about?” Jaskier asked with a sniffle. “The fact that I’ve wasted so much time of my life on someone who probably doesn’t even care about me? That I would leave some semblance of a relationship to three of my best friends fighting over me like— like _dogs_ or something?” 

“We wouldn’t fight,” Geralt said, a bit too harshly. Jaskier flinched, and Eskel’s hold on him tightened slightly. 

“It’s true,” Eskel said, to try to smooth it over. “We’ve shared bedpartners before, can’t imagine a boyfriend is any different.” 

“It is,” Jaskier said with a heavy sigh. “I— I love all three of you. The reason I haven’t left Valdo is because I didn’t— I don’t know.”

“Because a relationship is the only thing keeping you from having to think about your feelings and try to sort them out?” Eskel asked, and Jaskier choked on a sob at the way the words cut him open, exposed him raw to the three friends who were looking at him so softly. Or perhaps that was the alcohol muddling his vision. He closed his watery eyes and leaned his head back on Lambert’s shoulder. Geralt’s hand squeezed his knee to try to comfort him. 

“Now’s not the time for a fucking psychoanalyzing,” Lambert retorted as he held Jaskier close. 

“No it’s— it’s okay. He’s right,” Jaskier hiccuped. He wiped his eyes and sniffled again. “I felt that no matter if I did choose between one of you, if I was lucky enough to have even _one_ of you feel the same way, I— I wouldn’t be able to be fully into it, because you’re all—” He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes again. “And I thought, maybe this is just— just some sort of _deep friendship_. But I don’t feel the same with any of my other friends, I don’t dream of waking up next to them or helping them shower or— or—” 

“Shh.” Geralt shushed him gently, and they did a strangely coordinated shuffle so that Lambert switched with him. He pulled Jaskier into his arms, and Jaskier’s drunk-hazed mind wasn’t sure whether to cry more because all of them were being so _nice_ , or because he just rambled out a confession and they were all taking it so well but none of them were talking, _why weren’t they talking_ —

He hit a fist weakly against Geralt’s chest. “Fucking— say something,” he choked out, pulling away to look at Geralt through tear-blurred eyes. He was certain he was a mess, back to crying all over Geralt like he had at the beginning of the night.

“Potatoes aren’t an animal,” Lambert blurted out, and there was a pause as the three of them looked at him with bewildered expressions. Lambert shrugged and took another sip of his drink. “Said something.”

Jaskier blinked a couple times, tears still pouring from his eyes, but slowly a laugh bubbled its way out of his chest. Eskel and Geralt joined in with soft chuckles, and Jaskier laughed even harder at that. “It’s not even funny! That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!” he said between giggles. “Why are we laughing?!”

“Because it’s _stupid_ ,” Lambert snickered, slinging his arm over Geralt’s shoulders and moving closer. “Could say something else stupid if ya want.”

Jaskier sniffled and wiped his eyes once more. “W-What?”

Suddenly Lambert was very close, a smirk on his face that was a bit too wide, betraying the nervousness written on his face. “I’d like to kiss you.”

Jaskier felt his heart stop. Seated on Geralt’s lap, Eskel pressed against his back and Lambert asking to kiss him, it was like he was dreaming. Maybe he was, and maybe that was why he worried his lip between his teeth for only a moment before fluttering his eyes closed and nodding. When nothing happened, he peeked an eye open. “Well?”

“Going to need words,” Lambert said as he took Jaskier’s chin in his hand with a gentleness that took Jaskier by surprise. He was expecting Lambert to be fiery, fierce and hard. But he swallowed his nerves and cleared his throat. 

“I’d— Yes,” he choked out. “Please.”

And all of a sudden there was the fiery personality he had known and loved Lambert for. It wasn’t a kiss so much as their lips crashing together. It tasted heavily of alcohol, so much that Jaskier gave an unhappy huff and made Lambert laugh against his lips. Faintly he could hear a sharp intake of breath from Eskel behind him, and a muttered “ _fuck_ ” from Geralt, and that only spurred him on to give as good as he was getting from Lambert. He bit at Lambert’s lip, a bit sloppier than he normally would be sober, but it still got a hiss from Lambert as his tongue slipped into Jaskier’s mouth. 

“You’re trying to kill us,” Eskel whispered, and Jaskier pulled away from the kiss, panting, to lay his head back on Eskel’s shoulder.

“Ugh, too many emotions in one time,” he mumbled with a sniffle. He rubbed at his raw eyes. 

“Pick one and stay on it,” Geralt advised, his hand stroking over Jaskier’s side. 

Jaskier hummed and closed his eyes. “I’d like to stay on the kissing emotion.” 

“That’s not an emotion,” Eskel murmured. “But I’ll allow it. May I?” 

“Yes please.” Jaskier turned to face Eskel, trying his best to steady his heart in preparation for the kiss that would surely be his death, but nothing could have prepared him for Eskel ducking his head down and completely ignoring his lips in favor of pressing a kiss over his shoulder and his neck. He melted with a pleased hum. 

“Been wanting to do this for a while,” Eskel murmured in his ear. “Wanted to treat you right, lay you out and kiss every bit of you and tell you how beautiful you are.” 

Jaskier’s tongue felt too heavy to make words, and his head swam. He only managed a small whine.

Lambert snickered. “I think he broke.”

“He can break more,” Geralt said, physically moving Jaskier so that Jaskier was straddling his lap now instead and facing him with hooded eyes. He didn’t wait for Geralt to ask, he dove forward and captured his lips in a desperate kiss. He wasn’t sure if the low moan was from himself or from Geralt, and he found he didn’t care. He let go of the back of the couch with one hand to grope blindly to his right until he got his fingers tangled in Eskel’s hair and pulled him back to his neck. Eskel took the cue and ran his tongue up along Jaskier’s neck while Lambert bit down on the junction of his neck. Jaskier pulled away from Geralt with a strangled gasp, his other hand tightening over the back of the couch. 

A thin whine escaped him, and that was the moment Valdo decided to walk through the door. 

The heavy thump of a duffel bag hitting the floor startled all four of them into pausing, though Jaskier was the only one frozen. His heart pounded in his chest as hard as the duffel bag had hit the floor, his mind going five separate ways at once. The other three men on the couch just looked _bored_ , disgruntled with the interruption.

“Julian, what the fuck?!” Valdo demanded. 

“No Julians here,” Lambert replied back easily. “Just us and _Jaskier_.” Eskel nodded in agreement while Geralt pointedly tugged down the collar of Jaskier’s shirt on the side that Lambert left a prominent bite mark, and kissed over it to bring Valdo’s attention to it. 

Jaskier still sat frozen, his mind slowly coming back together. He felt overwhelming guilt crash over him, then rage, then a cocktail of emotions more confusing than the potion of nasty that Lambert had first mixed at the beginning of this mistake of a night. _No_ , this night wasn’t a mistake. The only mistake was Valdo walking in and ruining it. But Valdo was his boyfriend, he hadn’t even texted him to tell him that he was going to be breaking up with him before he pounced on his three friends, and they were all _drunk_. Was he taking advantage of them all in this state? What if they all sobered up and decided they didn’t want each other? 

“Ju— _Jaskier_ ,” Valdo hissed, and that seemed to startle Jaskier out of his thoughts, just for a moment. “What is the meaning of this?”

A dark look passed over Jaskier’s face. His mind was still drowning in alcohol, but his thoughts came clear. Even if they all woke up and decided to stay friends in the morning, he wasn’t lasting another night with Valdo. Not now, not after he had a taste of what it was like to be _appreciated_. He hadn’t realized it before now, how starved he was for affection and love. “You aren’t allowed to call me Jaskier. Not anymore.”

Valdo gave a disbelieving huff of a laugh and threw his hands up in the air. “So I can’t call you Julian, I can’t call you Jaskier, what the fuck am I supposed to call you then?” 

“I’d rather you didn’t call me anything at all,” Jaskier said with a sniff. Lambert whispered something in his ear, and a smirk spread over his face as his gaze flicked back to Valdo. “Call me your ex.”

“You think you’d not be my ex after I find you slutting it up with three men on my couch?!” Valdo snapped.

Jaskier couldn’t make the roll of his eyes more obvious if he tried. Wasn’t that ironic? Memories flashed across his mind of Valdo coming home clearly reeking of perfume, of a strip club, of anything. Thinking he’d be clear of the flowery and sweet smells if he just took his clothes off before he climbed into bed next to Jaskier, not even trying to cuddle up to him. In fact, some nights curled up as much and far away as possible, visibly disgusted whenever Jaskier touched him because Jaskier wasn’t soft curves and gentle, callus-free hands. “Oh please,” he snorted. “As if I don’t know what you do— _who_ you do when you’re ‘working late’.”

That made Valdo draw back, his lips twisted into a sneer. “At least I have the decency to keep it to one person at a time!”

Lambert instantly moved to sit more between the two as Eskel crowded up closer to Jaskier’s back. Geralt leaned forward to rest his head on Jaskier’s collar as he side-eyed Valdo. Jaskier felt a sense of pride well up in him at the way Valdo flinched back just barely. 

“I don’t think the ‘ _gentlemen’s clubs_ ’ were just one person, were they? Not even only three,” Jaskier sniped, his fingers running through Geralt’s hair to try to ground himself, as if he were petting a dog. If the way Geralt pushed up into the touch and gave a low, content hum was any indication, Geralt didn’t mind that so much either. 

“That’s _different_ ,” Valdo hissed back, pointing a reedy finger at the four of them. “It’s not personal there, it doesn’t mean anything. _This_ , with _them_ , when we’re—” 

“We’re nothing anymore. Haven’t been for a while, really,” Jaskier said, almost chilling himself with how cold his tone was. 

Valdo drew back, his face twisted in fury. He looked like he was going to fire back another retort, but Lambert decided at that moment to feint a lunge forward as he snarled at Valdo. Jaskier would have been terrified of it too, if he didn’t know Lambert and didn’t find it incredibly hot. As it was, Valdo’s argument visibly shriveled up and he stormed off to the bedroom, slamming and locking the door behind himself. 

Jaskier slumped back with a heavy sigh against Eskel, who readily caught him. 

“You okay?” Lambert asked, only glancing over his shoulder at Jaskier for a moment. He still faced towards the bedroom door, just in case Valdo decided to come out with something as a weapon. Geralt and Eskel took up the responsibility in encasing Jaskier in a tight hug of muscles and warmth, and Jaskier’s slightly more sober mind melted instantly. 

“Yeah.” Jaskier snuggled down into the hugs and closed his eyes, still shivering a bit from the adrenaline and rage that poured through him. Eskel shushed him gently and ran his fingers up and down his arm to try to soothe him. He breathed in deep and slow, Geralt instantly catching on and matching him. Jaskier matched the two after a few tries, his eyes shutting and the tension slowly leaving his limbs. He turned to snuggle more into Eskel’s chest. 

“Tired?” Geralt guessed, and Jaskier gave a weak hum and nod in response. A kiss was pressed to his cheek, that he could only tell was Eskel by the slight catch in his lip that brushed against his cheek. He let himself be moved and shifted until he was laying down on the massive pile of blankets and pillows on the floor that he had gathered for the three. 

His three friends— _boyfriends_ , his half-drunk, half-asleep brain corrected— conversed quietly amongst themselves before one slipped under the blankets with him and pulled him close. Jaskier gave a hum and wiggled against the body, which was a bit leaner and reeked of vodka. Lambert. 

The voice that came a moment later confirmed his guess. “Hey buttercup, they’re going to get what they can of your stuff so that you can spend the night with us, okay?”

“Hmm?” Jaskier blinked his eyes open and looked at Lambert with a furrowed brow. “But the—” He gestured vaguely to the several bottles of opened alcohol. 

“We’ll figure it out. Call a cab or something. Don’t worry about it,” Lambert assured him. He kissed the top of Jaskier’s head. “Sleep.”

“Hmm.” Jaskier snuggled back down into the blankets again, and a small smile tugged at his lips. “Always knew you were a softie.”

A small laugh rumbled above him, and Jaskier never felt warmer. “Only for you, buttercup.”

He heard the sounds of Geralt and Eskel rummaging through where they could in the house. They obviously couldn’t get into the bedroom, not with it being locked, but Jaskier could borrow their clothes for the night. A realization occurred to Jaskier, and he burst into a weak fit of giggles. 

“What’s so funny?” Lambert asked, his thumb brushing a curl of Jaskier’s hair behind his ear. 

“I took all of the blankets and pillows from our bedroom out here for you guys,” Jaskier said into his chest. “Valdo’s currently sleeping on a stripped bed.” 

Lambert cackled at that, and ruffled Jaskier’s hair in praise. “Nice job. Where’s the thermostat?”

Jaskier gasped and pulled away to look at him with wide eyes and a mischievous grin. “You _wouldn’t_.” When he only got a similar grin in response, he burst into more laughter. “Down the hall, outside of the bathroom.”

“Perfect. Be right back.” Lambert slipped out of the blanket pile with a kiss to Jaskier’s cheek, and Jaskier sat up to watch him charge down the hallway like a kid coming out on Christmas. He turned it down until the thermostat beeped at him to tell him it couldn’t go any lower. Eskel came out of the bathroom and gave him a gesture that Jaskier could tell silently meant _‘what the fuck are you doing’_ but Lambert only pointed to the pile of blankets that Jaskier resided in, and Jaskier wiggled his fingers in a wave at Eskel. Lambert whispered something to Eskel, who then doubled over and nearly choked on his laughter. He gave a weak punch to Lambert’s shoulder before disappearing back into the bathroom. Jaskier snuggled down into the blankets with a pleased smile. He knew Eskel, the man would go through every nook and cranny in there to make sure he got everything of Jaskier’s. 

Lambert returned to the pile of blankets and pillows and slipped back in next to Jaskier. Jaskier wasted no time to snuggle back up to him. Occasionally Geralt or Eskel would pause by them to kneel down and steal a quick kiss from Jaskier before going back to gathering up things. Jaskier let himself drift in a half-awake state, faintly hearing everything around him but not caring too much. The TV was turned off at some point, having been left on without any realization from any of them. The darkness that now filled the living room brought comfort, even after Lambert got up to help with the search.

He was soon shaken awake fully, and he blinked his eyes open blearily. 

“Hey sugarcube,” Eskel cooed, and Jaskier wanted to fall back asleep with how much just those words made him melt. “We’re all ready to go. Triss and Yen are here, Triss is going to drive our car back. Triss brought her van so we could get everything.”

Jaskier only managed a small hum as he stretched out and struggled upright. He only managed to get on his knees before Eskel knelt down in front of him. 

“Hold on,” Eskel offered, and how could Jaskier deny that? He climbed onto Eskel’s back and clung tight while Lambert and Geralt gathered up all of the blankets and pillows from the floor. The two of them carried them out and dumped them in the backseat of the flowershop van that sat outside of the house before they all piled into Lambert’s car, with Eskel in the front seat to chat with Triss as Geralt and Lambert stayed plastered to Jaskier’s sides. 

“Sorry for calling you out here Triss,” Jaskier mumbled from where his cheek was squished against Geralt’s shoulder. 

“Yen and I are happy to help. It’s the best birthday gift you could have gotten,” Triss replied back easily. “Want to get McDonald’s?” 

“Nah, had enough takeout and booze,” Jaskier replied. “Just want to go sleep.”

“Good choice,” Geralt rumbled from beside him. 

Jaskier snuggled up to him. “I hope the bastard doesn’t burn all of my clothes.”

“It’s fine, we got the TV,” Eskel replied, and Jaskier bolted upright and leaned forward between the two front seats to stare at him.

“What?”

Eskel looked at him. “The big TV in the living room? It looked like it could be yours, so I grabbed it. We needed another one anyways.”

“Also took the stand mixer in the kitchen. Knew how much you like to bake,” Geralt added. “The blender too. For your smoothies.”

“And I got all of those cute fuckin’ mugs and water bottles you had in the cabinets,” Lambert said with his chest puffed out with pride. “Not a single one chipped or broken.”

Jaskier didn’t know what to feel. A small, disbelieving laugh escaped him as tears started to run down his cheeks. He wrapped Geralt in a tight hug, then Lambert, and even leaned forward to try to wind his arms around Eskel and the seat, with marginal success. 

“You— You’re all the best,” he said, hiccuping on a sob. 

“Your turn to get cried on,” Geralt said as he gently nudged Jaskier over to Lambert. Jaskier instantly clung to Lambert and buried his face in his shoulder with a sniffle. 

“Sorry, sorry, I— you’re all just—” Jaskier choked on a breath, not sure if it was a sob or a laugh. “How did I get so lucky?”

“You’ve had enough rotten luck with that guy,” Lambert said as he wound an arm around Jaskier. “About time you knew what a good relationship’s like.”

“And with _three_ of my best friends,” Jaskier sighed, and sniffled again as tears kept soaking Lambert’s shirt. “Are you guys sure it’ll work?”

“We’ll have that talk in the morning,” Geralt said, and rested a hand on Jaskier’s knee. 

“Yen and I were having bets on which one you’d end up with,” Triss admitted, her dark eyes flicking briefly up to the rear-view mirror to look at Jaskier. “Never thought you’d get all three. I guess we both lost that bet.”

Jaskier managed a watery laugh as he patted his hand on Eskel’s shoulder to get his attention. Eskel glanced back and Jaskier stretched his hand towards Eskel’s and made a grabby motion, until Eskel finally understood and took his hand with a small chuckle. Jaskier settled back down comfortably for the last few minutes of the car ride, until they got to Eskel, Lambert, and Geralt’s place. It wasn’t nearly as nice as the place Jaskier had lived in with Valdo, but he had spent more nights here than he could remember. It had been a second home to him, and now it was his only home. 

Jaskier found that easier to accept than he thought it would be, especially when he accompanied Eskel to his bed to curl up with him while Geralt and Lambert brought everything inside. Eskel pressed a kiss behind his ear as he wound an arm around his waist, and he pulled him back to slot their bodies together more closely. Jaskier was ready to die happy right then and there, but then he woke up from dozing off again to Geralt and Lambert climbing into the bed with them. 

And in the morning, when he woke alone in bed and shuffled out to muttered curses and the smell of burning in the kitchen to find his three best friends trying— and failing spectacularly— to make pancakes, he knew there was no heaven he could have died and gone to that would match this. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment and kudos if you liked it! 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at @bitcher-of-blaviken, and on twitter at @blavikensbitchr!


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